Set Me Adrift
by Twilight Joltik
Summary: Verity knows her mother doesn't care about her. She knows that she can never live up to her. She's given up even trying to please her. By now, all she wants is to be her own person.


Verity was six when she realized her mother couldn't care less about her.

She'd worked for hours on a drawing of a Lapras, and was so, so proud of it! To her tiny self, it was really good! She couldn't wait to show her mom, and for her to hang it on the refrigerator like moms on tv did.

But as she ran up shouting "Mama, Mama look!", her mother took one glance at it and started walking away, to the big bookshelf filled with books bigger than Verity's head, and pulled out one that smelled like dust. She set the book down in front of Verity, and opened it up to a page with hardly any pictures or words she could understand.

"When I was your age, I was reading books like this," her mother explained. "You ought to too."

Her heart sank as she walked off, and Verity realized she hadn't even said a word about her drawing. Tears filled her eyes, turning even the words she understood to incoherent blurs. She ran off and hid in her bed, curled up around the stuffed Chingling that Great Granny had gotten her. At least Lingling understood her, right?

That sentiment stayed as she grew older. Mother didn't pay a lick of attention to her, and her only real friends ended up being her dolls and sometimes her mom's Pokemon. She was usually just lonely, more often than not. Since they moved around so much, it wasn't like she could make any friends. She'd lose them anyhow, and it'd just hurt.

Whenever she asked her mother if she could go play outside, or get the new video game that looked so cute, or where Daddy was and why there weren't any pictures of him, she'd always get the same response. A book would be slammed down in front of her, and she'd be told she ought to study if she wanted to be a good trainer. Or sometimes, she'd be told to get back to violin practice, or piano practice, or if she was really lucky, just to keep studying her type matchups.

It took until she was eight for her to finally snap. She'd asked her mom if maybe they could get takeout for dinner, and that stupid book was the only answer she got. The tears burning in her eyes weren't enough anymore. She had to scream.

"Why do you always give me a book when I ask anything?", she shouted. "Books aren't my mom, you are!"

For once, her mom looked at her for more than a few seconds, her brows furrowing and a frown crossing her face. "You wouldn't understand," her mother said finally, after what felt like an eternity. "It's difficult, but I only want the best for you."

"Then talk to me!", Verity screamed back. "I want a mom! I wanna show you my drawings and for you to be proud of them!"

Her mother huffed. "But you don't draw."

Verity couldn't put the words together, so she ended up running off and crying into her new Piplup plush she'd bought with her birthday money. Her mom didn't say anything more on the subject, but she noticed when she came home from her next work trip and Verity came home from Great Granny's, she found a sketchpad and a set of charcoals on her bed.

Surely her mother had meant that as an apology or something, but it just made her feel worse. She couldn't do anything with that except make a huge mess, and she ended up throwing them away out of frustration. Mom didn't get that the problem wasn't drawing, did she?

It took her a little while to figure out what made her so mad about the charcoals. It wasn't that she couldn't use them, it was that her mother had expected her to be able to. And she expected her to be able to read those disgustingly huge books, and to know everything!

Of course mom would think that, mom was a prodigy at everything! Youngest ever Champion of Sinnoh, leading authority on ancient legends, not to mention a piano and violin prodigy, and everything Verity could never be. It was miserable, just miserable!

So, she formulated a plan. She needed to leave, to become her own person! She'd be ten soon enough, so she could leave the second she was old enough to start a Pokemon journey!

Behind her mother's back, she started writing to Professor Rowan. His address was easy enough to find, so she could easily bend the truth a bit about who she was. She said she had been born in Twinleaf Town - technically true, something she'd only found out from her name - but her parents had been moving around. She claimed she'd grown up with friends who she always promised she'd start her Pokemon journey with - a blatant lie, but believable - and she'd dreamed of getting a Pokemon from him her whole life.

To her delight, he bought into it wholesale. Promised her a starter when she turned ten. So, all she had to do was find an easy way to come get it!

That required a bit of careful planning. While her mother was away or asleep, she'd sneak into her study and rearrange her files and papers so the ones on Mesprit were always at the top. She knew how her mother worked; she'd get obsessed with a legend for months at a time and move them close to where it was said to be so she could study it. All she needed was to get her obsessed with Mesprit in time for her birthday, and she'd be all set!

It worked, and two weeks before she'd turn ten, she was dragged to Twinleaf Town. She made sure to act the normal amount of upset about it so nothing would be expected, but she couldn't be happier. Every night in her bed there, she'd stare at the ceiling and hug her Piplup doll and fantasize about her upcoming adventure. She hoped more than anything she'd be able to get a real Piplup as her starter, but she'd love a Turtwig or a Chimchar too.

On midnight on her tenth birthday, she made a run for it. She didn't bother leaving a note - she knew she wouldn't be missed - and swiped a few Pokeballs and berries from her mother's stash, along with an adorable white bag with a blue ribbon on it she hadn't seen before. Maybe it was supposed to be a birthday present for her, but she doubted it. She'd never gotten any of those from her other than books or spending money before.

Anything else useful went in the bag too. A sleeping bag she had for those awful occasions where she had to spend the night at some dumb ruins, whatever money she had saved up, a few snacks, and just in case, her old stuffed Chingling. It felt so real now, so real that she almost cried when she felt the cool night air on her cheeks.

She was at Sandgem by sunrise, and practically beating down the door before Professor Rowan opened it, still in a robe and slippers. Clearly she was a bit early, but he assured her that he understood. "Of course you're anxious to start, you've been waiting for this for a very long time, haven't you?"

Even if she'd been dishonest about why she was so excited for this, that was absolutely true. Finally, she'd be able to become her own person. She'd be Verity, not just Cynthia's Daughter.

The Piplup there practically jumped in her arms when she said she wanted it. It was even cuter in person! Not as squishy, but those big eyes that were overflowing with happy tears made her feel like she'd done everything right. This was her destiny, right here. This Piplup was her partner.

Without a clue as to what to do next, she left the lab and decided to just go ahead and start towards Jublife City. She'd always wanted to go, but her mother hated big cities, so she never had been able to. But, she could now! She was free to go somewhere besides Celestic Town or Eterna City or Solaceon or Snowpoint or whatever awful place she was being dragged! She was the master of her own destiny!

But, as she rummaged around in her bag for a granola bar, she felt something she hadn't put in there: a little drawstring bag. She pulled it out, curious as to what she'd accidentally swiped, and found a Pokeball and a note in there.

"For my precious Verity," the note read. "You've always loved the sea, so I think you'll love him."

Eyes clouded with tears, she threw out the Pokemon to find a Lapras.

All the tears spilled over as she realized who that note had to be from. Maybe she'd been wrong.

Maybe Mama did love her.


End file.
